


My Angel, My Nightmare, My Past

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Historical, One-Sided Relationship, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can't see who she has become, blinded by who she was. What really happened all those years ago? And who really is he anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Used to be Peaceful…

**Author's Note:**

> I'm breaking canon a bit here (especially with younger!Belarus). I do that, I portray it differently in my head. In the (slightly modified) words of Adam Savage, I reject your canon and substitute my own. I'm no expect on history, so this mightn't be entirely accurate.  
> Mostly the dates are random unless they had a specific need (partitions of Poland, for example).

"Oh my God… like, oh my God, Tolys."

The brunet, Tolys, or more commonly known as Lithuania, lay face down on a sofa, his sleeve rolled up on his left arm as his friend examined a deep knife wound across the back on the arm. A make-shift tourniquet comprised of the torn fabric of his sleeve and a dull pocket knife held back anymore blood from escaping.

"It can't be bad, can it?" he sheepishly answered the blond that stood over him.

"You are so totally losing it, aren't you? Hello~ Earth to Liet~ You need, like, a doctor. Right now."

"Feliks, it doesn't even hurt. I'm fine."

The Pole rolled his eyes. "Y'know, I hate to break it to you, but…" and he raised his voice slightly, enunciating each syllable clearly, "wake, up. What, are, you, think-ing? Are you goin' all crazy or somethin'? She's gonna kill you one of these days."

"She's such a sweet doll, she couldn't hurt anyone…"

And it used to be that way…

* * *

**1335** A short young girl of about ten sat on the edge of her bed, one arm clutching a rag doll for dear life, rubbing her eyes as an older boy ran his fingers through her platinum blonde hair.

"Now Natasha, you need to go to sleep, or you'll get sick. Your brother and sister would be heartbroken if they heard you were sick." The soft-spoken boy leaned his head gently on her head and wrapped his arms around the girl, inviting her to lean against him.

"I wanna go home to home to Katya and Vanya…" she sobbed between hiccups.

"I promise, I'll try to bring them home for you soon. I promise, okay?"

Natasha nodded, fighting to control her tears. She was lonely and homesick, and being yelled at by the other boy, Feliks, didn't help. Tolys had stepped in, but not in time to save her tears.

"Can I sing for you to help you feel better, just like Sister did?"

"Mm…okay."

" _Je, liuliai dukreli, liuliai rūteli, Užmik, mano aušrela, užmik, mano gėlala. Je, aš greit suverpsiu plonai linelius, Išausiu tau drobelas, Išausiu tau drobelas_ …"

Soon he had gently rocked her to sleep, and lying her softly down, he kissed her cold forehead and smiled, extinguishing his candle and walked off to his own bed.

* * *

**1374** The same girl, maybe slightly taller, but still the same age, stood in a field of rapeseed, tagging along with the two older boys, the oldest Feliks, about 14, the other, 13. Picking off a stalk of the bright yellow flowers, she held onto it tightly. "It's the color of Vanya's favorite flower," she informed the other two.

"You really love Vanya, don't you?" Tolys asked with a soft smile.

"'Course. It would be bad not to love your brother, right?"

"If you love him so much, why not marry him?" Feliks smirked, tired of her chatter (mostly because he wanted to be the one endlessly chattering).

Natasha stuck out her tongue and mock gagged. "That's gross," she dignifiedly informed the blond. Changing the subject slightly, she added, "At least Katya is here now. I miss Vanya though."

"I'm sorry." Tolys nuzzled into her hair slightly, a gesture that made her giggle nervously, while making Feliks scoff and roll his eyes.

"G-ross…" he muttered to no one in particular.

* * *

**1626** Natasha sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the same rag doll. Her face and body had matured, and rightfully so, she was growing older. She glanced over at the bed beside her where her older sister slept peacefully, and pouted.

"Tolys," she called, and the also maturing teen stuck his head around the corner, "I can't sleep. Will you sing for me like you used?" He nodded and began to walk over to her. "What's that for?" she pointed at a dagger in his hand that he had been sharpening and forgot to put down.

Stopping dead in his tracks, he frustratedly looked around for somewhere to stash the knife. Finding no suitable place, he answered, "It's a weapon. I'm sorry, I should have put it down."

"Can I see it?"

The question at first shocked him, but hey, it was mostly dull, and she was under supervision anyway. He knelt in front of her and held it out. I suppose she's old enough now, he thought, to know how to defend herself. "Be careful, that thing can kill. If you promise to be safe, you can keep it."

She picked up the dagger, examining it, her face broke into a shy smile and she hugged tightly around Tolys' neck. "Thank you."

The warrior within him knew far better than to receive such a move with a deadly weapon in her grasp, no matter how well he thought he knew her, but… It's dull anyway. She's never reached out to me before, I have always embraced her. And besides, this angel could never hurt anyone.

Releasing him and lying herself down, she handed the dagger back to him. "Please watch it for me so I don't hurt myself while I sleep. Now will you sing?"

He smiled and took it from her hand. " _Je , vai, aš išausiu baltas drobelas, Pasiūsiu marškinėlius. Pasiūsiu marškinėlius. Je, vai užaugs, užaugs mano dukrela Kaip krasnioji liepeli. Kaip krasnioji liepeli. Je, vai, aš nuklosiu plonom drobelėm Dulkėtų vieškelėlį_."

* * *

**1772** They were gone… Worse, she was gone. Only in her absence did he realize how he had truly loved her.

 _ **A man would never show a weakness…**_ The voice drifted through Tolys' mind as he sat, face buried in his hands. _**Strength comes and goes, but a true warrior will never appear weak.**_ He knew they were declining. Other, newer powers would come and take their territories. He and Feliks would be left alone. _**Swallow your pain, whatever you do.**_

Obeying the voice that had guided him through life, he removed his head from his hands, blinking away the tears. No longer able to summon the strength he used to, there was no point in fighting. Isn't this what nations live for? To rise and conquer, to fall and burn, to eventually become just a memory in the history books? So what if he lived the rest of his life tending to the crops? He could even go on living for others and be happy.

"Hey…" A blond head stuck through the doorway and walked over to sit with him.

Poland… That was another story all together. A union sounded like, and was, a good idea at the time. Once a co-equal partner, Lithuania was now not much more than another lackey. But Feliks and Tolys had a special bond, and that would make a difference, right?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Tolys kept his emerald eyes trained on the dust gathering on the floor. "Why are you here, Feliks?"

"You hadn'ta come out all day, and I'm super hungry. But you look sick, is there anything I can getcha?" Feliks draped his arm across his friend's back, narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, trying to make the younger teen look at him.

 _ **Strong men can take care of themselves…**_ "Strong men can take care of themselves, Feliks…-I mean…ah-never mind."

"Liiiiiet…" he whined, "c'mon, tell me." Touching his friend's forehead softly, he added, "You don't seem like you got a fever… Is it your stomach again?"

"No!" Tolys snapped, turning his still tear-glistened eyes to Feliks sharply and pushing out from under his arms. "You wouldn't understand, you self-absorbed pig!" His tone was one of self-pity mixed with frustration. He couldn't handle himself with _that thing_ hanging onto him. _I don't hate Feliks,_ he repeated to himself, _I really don't… Even if he never listens, and has no social graces, or doesn't think about others' feelings, or…stop it, Tolys!_

"Tolys!"

Tolys ran, out of the room, out of the house, out into the rye fields. Collapsing between the rows, he cried. He cried for his lost childhood, for his missing and deceased family, for losing his angel…and everything in between that he never cried for, for the sake of hiding his pain. In that field, he vowed to himself to never again put himself above anyone else, to do whatever it took to make others happy, to serve and not expect anything in return. Shortly after, he cried himself to sleep as the sun began to set. A worried Feliks came looking for him, and unable to move or wake him, the blond brought out a blanket and spent the rest of the night at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASLnzu-fvYc


	2. Sucked Into a Whirlpool

**1795** "Poland! Feliks! Feliks, come help me! How could you just lie there and watch? Help!" Tolys knew he was screaming to the wind, maybe screaming with the wind, getting his voice lost in its howls, but as long there was a chance that he would be heard, he kept on, tears flowing from his eyes until he choked himself and fell into a coughing fit.

As soon as his shouts turned to sputterings, the tall man dragging him spoke up. "You promised me, you know that? You promised me! Why would you go back on your word, liar?" His childishly mocking, yet broken and hurt voice cut through Tolys like a blade. The man stopped walking, turning to face his captive with icy violet eyes. "You were so nice and I liked you, so I thought you wouldn't be like this," suddenly his solemn face cracked into a playful grin, "but you're not escaping, so we'll be friends! Yay!"

This man…this man knew him…but he couldn't remember who the man was. A promise? Tolys considered his words binding, he would never break them. Clearing his throat, he ventured a question he hoped wouldn't hurt, "Excuse me, but I don't know who you are, and you obviously know me. Please tell me your name, so I have something to awaken my memory." He flinched, awaiting some cruel retribution.

Instead, his captor's eyes watered. "You don't remember me? Did you fall and hurt your head? Are you alright?" He averted his gaze to the snow blowing in the wind. "I'm sorry. I should have known. There wasn't much of me to remember when we met… I'm Russia. We promised to be friends when I got stronger."

Suddenly, the lightbulb went off in his head, and he groaned as everything hit him at once. "I'm so sorry… Ivan…"

"Yay!" Ivan twisted his new 'friend's' arm around in an effort to keep dragging him. "It's so much fun to have friends, da?"

Why, oh why…did it have to end like this…? But no matter what, he would do anything and everything to please this man. Anything less would break his vow.

* * *

He nearly tripped as he was pushed into a strange house.

"You walk too slow. Your short, little legs have to learn to keep up with Vanya." 'Vanya' had talked nonstop all the way, half of the time, the pain from his grip on poor Tolys' arm was too much and he couldn't even hear his words, much less walk straight on his own, getting him this lecture. "But anyway, it's cold out there and you're all wet, so you should probably go warm up, 'kay?" Tolys was promptly pushed along to a large chest which Ivan opened, revealing a large array of blankets. "You can take whatever one you want, 'cept this one and this one and," he pointed out about twenty. "Take those and I'll cut your ear off!" This strange man giggled, Tolys would have liked to imagine it was to lighten the mood after such a statement, but somehow he knew it was because Ivan enjoyed the idea of torturing him.

He quickly picked up a blanket and mustered the courage to turn to the tall man. "You really didn't have to share this with me," he quietly said, indicating the blanket.

"Nuh-uh! Vanya wouldn't let his new friend freeze to death on the first night." Ivan's eyes dropped to the floor. "Don't you like me, Tolys? You don't like me either, do you?"

"No-I mean… I'm sorry, Mr. Branginski. And thank you."

Ivan grinned again, grabbing ahold of Tolys' quivering shoulders. "I don't really have anywhere for you, but you can stay with your brothers, 'kay?"

_Brothers…? I don't have any brothers…_

"I think Eduard is about your size, maybe he'll give you some dry clothes."

_Eduard? Could it be…?_ Ivan opened a door and sure enough, there was Estonia, ducking behind a blanket of his own, and little Latvia, whose hands flew to his watering eyes and broke into a soft song at the sight of the tall Russian (he sang as a method of comforting himself…), neither noticing the wide-eyed brunet beside him.

"Raivis!" Tolys shouted, diving to hold the boy in his arms.

"Tolys?" Raivis looked up in shock. "Tolys!"

"Tolys?" repeated the voice from under the shaking blanket, and Eduard stuck his head out to confirm what he had heard.

Ivan clapped to himself in excitement. Maybe they would like him now… Walking over to Eduard, he put his hand down firmly on him and said, "You'll give Tolys some clothes, da? He's cold from being out in the snow and wind."

Beside them, Raivis and Tolys kept a conversation in a strange mix of their languages.

"Where's Feliks, Tolys?"

"I don't know…" Tolys didn't offer any hints that he felt as if he had been abandoned and backstabbed by the person he thought he could trust the most.

Picking up only on the mention of 'Feliks', Ivan added to the two, "Feliks will be fine. And before this goes any farther, I don't want to hear that language again. It hurts my ears. 'Kay?" Walking back to the door, he picked up the blanket Tolys had dropped and threw it back to him. "I'll see you all tomorrow…friends."

* * *

"Good morning, Mr. Braginski. Can I get you anything?"

Tolys was up before anyone else, not that he had actually slept though, with the events of the previous day playing and replaying in his head frantically. Occupying his time by attempting to read a book left lying out with his poor understanding of Russian, he had decided that he would do whatever it took to pass his time as peacefully as possible.

Ivan was shocked to find him awake and couldn't find the words to answer him with.

"Would you like anything to eat or drink? I'm sure I could make it for you," Tolys asked again.

"Um…I dunno."

Tolys stopped the conversation there, drawing away his focus to the paintings on the wall, neatly aligned and spaced. He picked up on a method to them too, as if they had been obsessively chosen and placed. Many were copies of the same image, a single, beautiful sunflower in vibrant color. The color… He was suddenly hit with memory. _"It's the color of Vanya's favorite flower."_ Natasha! He had already drawn the connection that this Vanya was his angel's beloved brother, and that this Vanya was the one who took her from him, but he was hit with the realization that he had been reunited with her.

"Mr. Braginski…" he started, only to notice he had walked away during his reverie. Catching a glimpse of the scarf disappearing around a corner, he bolted after it. "Mr. Braginski! Is it possible that Miss Natasha Arlovskaya lives here?"

The Russian turned back to him with seriousness in his frigid eyes. "Do I have a reason to tell you? I won't let anyone hurt my sister!"

The outburst startled Tolys, who recoiled. "Sir, I assure you I want no harm for Miss Arlovskaya either. I simply want to see her again. As you may recall, she-"

"She lived with you for a long time, I know. Why else did you think I wanted you? Natasha told me how kind you are and confirmed you were still the same child I made a promise with. She was right, maybe you are too kind. People like you will inevitably be preyed upon by those willing to take advantage of you. It's a cruel world." With that, Ivan took off with a start, disappearing behind a maze of halls Tolys had no hope of finding his way through.

Ivan Braginski. _The man,_ thought Tolys, _is a mystery, unsolvable to the normal mind._ The tattered and blood-stained clothes when he was small had haunted Tolys for ages. He spoke like a child even now, and he had to be approaching adulthood physically. The book left out detailed reports of gruesome murders, and several other small indicators said he didn't consider others' pain at all. Eduard and Raivis appeared to be mortally afraid of him. And yet he was so concerned about being liked and having friends. The man was obviously insane. Yet there were glimpses of reason. He showed he was capable of sound thinking. But what caused that outburst, and why did he run off after pronouncing the words, almost like a confession of guilt? And even more troubling, what had happened to him in the centuries gone by that Tolys could only throw guesses to the air about?

"Tolys? Tolys! Tolys, are you still here?" came a boyish voice.

Ah, Tolys' little cousin, the only surviving member of his family. "I'm still here, Raivis," he called back.

A short minute later, the short boy clung to his leg. "I'm so happy you came, Tolys." The boy was physically eleven or twelve, but appeared much younger due to malnutrition, due to severe depression. WIthout a family, he had been taken in my Tolys, also parent-less, but they were ripped away from each other at a young age by the Teutonic Knights, creating an intense hatred for the German that destroyed their fragile lives. Long after, when Tolys and Raivis were finally reunited, the little one had brought along a friend by the name of Eduard. Ever since, people had thought the three were blood brothers. Close, maybe, but the irreparable rifts between all of them prevented them from forming a make-shift family.

"It's scary here, Tolys. I don't want you to be hurt."

Tolys knelt to hold the boy again. "It'll be alright. I'll find a way for it to be alright. I promise."

Soft footfalls approached the two, and Tolys felt a small hand gently touch his head before being quickly removed.

"Hello Tolys."

He quickly stood and turned to be face-to-face with the very person he had wanted to see most. "Uh… Hello… Ah…" He tried so hard to keep his face from turning red, "Hello Miss Arlovskaya."

She quirked an eyebrow slightly. "Natasha. I'm Natasha, remember?"

"Miss Natasha then."

She took ahold of his arm and started back in the direction she came from. He never remembered her being this strong… Once she came to a suitable place and stopped, she released him and directed her eyes elsewhere as she addressed him. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Uh… I missed you…and I guess I just wanted to know you're still in good health…and such." He was concerned about her apparent standoffishness, but tried not to show it.

"Why? Why me? Why didn't you ask about my sister? She stayed with you too, you know." Turning her eyes directly to him, she almost pleaded, "What makes me so special? Why me?"

"Because…because I…I" _Because I love you, Natasha! Say it, Tolys, just say it!_ _ **Love is for the weak, it'll only hurt you.**_ "Because… I don't know."

"You don't know? she scoffed. "You really are stupid, you know that? And you can have your stupid knife back too." Reaching into the leg of her boot, she pulled out the dagger he had given her, in an elaborate casing, and thrust it toward him. "If you won't tell me the truth, I don't want anything to do with you, including some dumb knife you gave me."

"I really like you, Natasha. For whatever reason, I do."

His sudden statement shocked her momentarily. "More than you like Feliks?"

"Well…yes."

The knife went back in her boot as an acceptance of this as truth. "More than Raivis?"

"Raivis is my family. It's different."

"Like the difference between say…if I liked you and Vanya?"

"I suppose, but Raivis is still a child, I have to protect him. You're the child in your family, you're the one they want to protect."

"I dare you to deny that you tried to protect me too. I dare you to lie to me again."

"I protect everyone I care about, not just family, and not just children. I protected Feliks all those years, and I am younger than him. It's just my nature, I suppose."

"Fair enough." Satisfied with his explanation, she fell silent again, boring her eyes through his chest, as if she could see his heart racing and throbbing. After a few very uncomfortable minutes, he turned to walk away, only to be stopped by her words. "So what do you think of my brother?"

"I think…" he paused to carefully consider his words, "he, all three of you really, have had an incredibly difficult life, one I can only imagine the pain of. I'm sorry and I wish to alleviate that pain in any way that I can."

She blinked in silence, taken aback by the answer. "…You really are a nice guy, Tolys. Try not to get sucked into our insanity."

He smiled politely and nodded, then turned away to leave.


	3. New Life

Within weeks, Tolys had accustomed himself to a simple routine: waking early to prepare food for everyone else (he quickly learned what everyone liked and how to prepare the strange dishes), seeing to it that everyone was set for the day, cleaning the large house, etc. As long as he was doing something for someone else, he was fine. Sure, he got pushed around a lot and made to do things he'd rather not, but that had become his life over the centuries, and he determined he wouldn't let it bother him.

He was on his hands and knees, scrubbing a stubborn stain on the floor, when he felt a pair of eyes drilling through the back of his head.

"Why do you let yourself be Vanya's slave?" the young girl asked matter-of-factly.

He allowed himself a small smile of amusement before turning to answer her. "I'm doing this out of my own will."

"I don't think you have your own will. I also don't think you have any idea what self is. Try living selfishly for a while, you'd probably find it refreshing," she crossed her arms.

"Ha," he looked directly into her ice blue eyes with his warm, kind ones, "I can't do something like that."

She fell silent, trying to develop a retort in her mind. All she could come up with was, "You said you could only imagine the pain we've lived through… I can't even start to imagine what happened to you to make you such a doormat."

"Excuse my arrogance, Miss, but I am far from a doormat. The once largest country in Europe? You, of all people, should know who I am."

"I know, and this is what I don't understand. Where is that Lietuva?"

"I am still the same Lietuva I always was. What I have lived through, you can only imagine. I don't pry into your past, and in return, I ask that you accept me as I am and leave what has happened to be lost forever to history."

"I was abused…" she offered, hoping to trade the information for more from him.

"I know," was his simple answer. Her effort fell to the ground.

Scoffing, she kicked his leg for not answering how she had wanted, then sat down a few feet from him. "So Mr. Non-Doormat, what selfish things do you like? Anything that doesn't include another person counts."

"I guess…" he had to stop to consider the question, "I would say I like to learn." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Anything and everything. I love to know."

She kicked his leg again. "Boring. New question: Why did you come here?"

His face dropped ever so slightly, and she smirked, knowing she'd hit something sensitive to him. "To be completely honest, I had no choice. I was forced here."

"What happened to you? Weren't you just so strong?" Her tone was mocking, she knew it, and so did he.

With an apologetic smiles, he answered, "I used to be, I'm not very strong anymore."

"Why?"

"No one knows. After long considering it, I concluded strength is something us nations cannot control. Its comes and goes as it wills, and we are left to the whims of so many circumstances."

The answer got a genuine smile from her. "I like your answers, very well-worded. The harder the question, the more you seem to understand it. From now on you're my philosopher."

_At least I'm your something…_

"Now, carry on with your doormat things, and pretend I'm not here. I'll just watch you. I think I might like you a little too."

* * *

The days, weeks, months crawled by in this mundane life. Every time Tolys began to wish he had a bit more excitement around him, he would inevitably get it, in every way he didn't want it. Raivis' depression, once thought to be cured, was getting worse and worse, the boy would spend whole days hidden away in a closet, sobbing and quivering uncontrollably, the only sign of his life were his soft, melodic songs that could occasionally be heard. Tolys himself had been 'sucked into the insanity' so to speak, and more frequent grew the days in which he would go about his work while trying to avoid his master. Bruises, cuts and welts formed on his body and were promptly hidden, as was all of his other pains.

_It's not his fault,_ he would tell himself over and again. Whatever was broken and crooked in the man-child Ivan's mind was irreparable, one could only bear with him and pretend to be his friend, and even that couldn't save them from him. He couldn't control himself. Forever in the shadows, Tolys had seen him push his sisters down staircases and then run away crying because he had hurt them. He had seen him shove the others around because they happened to exist in his general vicinity, and then still want to be their friend. Tolys himself had been cut, pushed, and even once the Russian had stepped down on his neck with all his weight, all in under one year. One year, an extremely short amount of time for someone who could live thousands. And yet it was by national existence, that he, or any of the others in fact, hadn't been killed yet.

There were, however, sunny days in this endless night. On days that Ivan was away, the youngest three could often be found playing together. One particular day, Natasha had brought out all of her dolls, her and Raivis created immense stories surrounding them and their lives, as Eduard sketched and wrote down the happenings.

"Hey Raivis," Natasha spoke, leaning her head in her hands as the doll town went to sleep for the make-believe night. "You sing nice, you know? I hear you sometimes. Can you sing the same songs as Tolys?"

The boy looked away, a little embarrassed. "No… I don't sing what he does. He's a much better singer anyway."

"Don't be like that!" she patted his head gently. "You're the far better singer."

"It's true," Eduard added. "You're a natural talent, Raivis."

Raivis covered his face with his hands and shook his head violently. "Why would you guys even listen to me? I'm nothing special, really."

"Why do you sing then?" Natasha stared into his eyes, peeking out from behind his hands. "I like to hear you sing."

"I…I don't know!" The boy in the spotlight looked and felt as if he were about to break into tears, and his two friends scrambled to comfort him, apologizing profusely for complimenting him.

All the meanwhile, Tolys watched the children from behind the door frame. _I know why you sing, Raivis, and I'm sorry._ He couldn't help but smile as he watched them interact. But then the loneliness hit him. Distanced from everyone he cared about… Alone… He was never really a child, he couldn't understand or take part in their games. He had no one here. Raivis, the closest thing he had to family, would always be sick and/or preoccupied with the friend Tolys was a mere stranger to. Natasha, the one he loved, had a family of her own. Here he was stuck, without a friend or family of his own.

And little did he know just how closely he was watched every day of his existence, just as closely as he watched he two he cared for.

* * *

**1802** Tolys was going about his life as he had become accustomed to, when he felt himself being pulled back by his hair. Odd, he didn't hear footfalls behind him and he listened for such things. The cold hand had now woven itself in the hair as it struggled to let go. He felt a tug that almost pulled him off his feet, but instead ripped some of his hair out.

"Aha!"

Once Tolys recognized the laugh, he could easily imagine the man gleefully examining the locks he had painfully pulled out. Cautiously, he turned around and had his vision confirmed, but the man hen caught sight of Tolys' involuntary tears of pain.

"I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Tolys, don't run away from me!"

_Oh, I'm not going anywhere._ _ **Idiot! What are you doing? He threw the first blow, fight back! Defend! Fight!**_ _I can't do that, things have changed._ _ **What do you mean? Strike back!**_ _Will you shut up?_ Tolys cringed at the battle in his mind, his hands pulling at the hair of his temples. Was this it? Was he now completely sucked into an insanity of his own? _Why am I fighting with myself like this?_

"Tolys! Are you okay?" Ivan's alarmed voice snapped him back to reality. "Talk to me, Tolys!" He shook the brunet forcefully.

"I'm fine! I'll be fine!" The shaking stopped as soon as he spoke. Nervously, he began to comb through his hair with his fingers. "I'm sorry, Mr. Braginski."

Ivan just watched him silently before speaking again. "Was your hair always this long, Tolys?" He reached out to touch the longest strands.

"Ah…yes, it was," he chuckled slightly at the seemingly insignificant question, and subconsciously backed away from the touch.

"I don't remember it that way…when you were little."

"Oh… I wore it like this," he pulled up the back to demonstrate, then let it drop back down.

"Why?"

"I guess it was just easier to handle."

"Why don't you wear it like that anymore?"

"I don't have a ribbon anymore." As he pronounced the words, he saw something dart from the corner of his eye, but when he looked twice, there was nothing. _Yes, I am slowly losing my mind…_

That evening, he was met with a small note under his blanket, and under it, a black silk ribbon. The note, written in imperfect Lithuanian and neat, looped handwriting, read as such:

_Tolys,_

_I saw you pull back your hair and I have to say it looked nice. Please accept this ribbon from me, it is my pleasure to gift it to you. I hope you appreciate it._

He smiles, picking up the ribbon and holding it to his face. The anonymous giver wasn't anonymous to him, though he could pretend they were. Only two other people here could write in his native tongue, and only one of those two would have had a ribbon to give him.

_Thank you… Natasha._


	4. Drowned in Insanity

"I haven't been entirely truthful, please forgive me." Her long hair blew in the gusts of wind, pale skin matching perfectly the white dress and soft snowflakes framing her. She wore a soft smile, her shining blue eyes the only color in this beautiful world of white. "The truth is…I love you…Natasha." He reached to grasp her hand…

And awoke. Again? Not even in his dreams could he learn if his love was requited, even in the slightest bit. As if whatever god or power was mocking him, over and over… How many years had it been cruelly winding through his mind now? Ten? Fifteen? At least in his dreams he had the courage to tell her how he felt, in reality, he had become a bumbling mess. He couldn't hold eye contact with her anymore, lost his thoughts, giggled stupidly…as if his entire mind packed up and moved out at the sight of her. _She must think I'm completely crazy. Totally ludicrous. But then again…this is a mad house. Even the sanest would lose it here, given the time_.

**1814** Tolys stood at a window, watching the dark nothingness that happened outside. _How long has it been since I went outside just for the sake of it?_ If he were back home with Feliks, this would have been the busiest time of year, harvest time. _Wait-I still consider being with Feliks to be 'home' after all these years?_

In the shallow reflection of the glass pane, a figure appeared. "What are you doing, Tolys?"

_Natasha. A person I really didn't want to see after that dream again._

"If you make a hobby out of watching the sunrise, this isn't the best window."

_Thanks. I'll remember that when I actually want to watch the sunrise, not trying to decide if I'm insane or not yet._

"Are you okay, Tolys?"

_Great, now she's worried about me, too._

"Tolys?"

"Would you consider love to be an insanity?"

Her dim reflection clearly showed her dumbfounded expression. "Are you…in love?"

"Forget I said anything." His gaze dropped to the floor. _As if she's going to forget it._

Averting her own gaze to the floor and scuffing it with the toe of her boot, he was right, she wasn't going to forget it. "Who…if it's okay for me to ask, is it? You know…that you love?"

_As if you don't know with how I've been acting around you lately…_ _**Maybe she's looking for confirmation, just like you.** _ _I doubt it…_ _**Are you calling your angel stupid?** _ _Since when are you on the side of love?_ _**I am not. I am the voice of reason.** _

"If you'd rather not say, I guess I can understand…" her voice broke his mental argument.

Should he trust that so-called voice of reason that he had trusted all his life? "Why, have you ever loved someone?"

"I don't know what love is."

"What…what do you mean?" He turned to look directly at her.

"Really, what is it? Why does it need another person to determine whether it is positive or negative? Why does it have such extreme control over every aspect of being? Why is it even necessary?"

"I hate to tell you this, but you sound like someone who's known love herself with such hopeless questions."

"Or maybe I've spent too much time observing others in love. You, for example."

He added to her pondering with one of his own scrambled thoughts, "Some say that love makes us stronger. Others say it makes us weaker as it irrationalizes the entire being."

"Which do you believe?"

"Honestly, I'm of a double mind. I don't understand at all."

"Mmn…" was her only response.

"If and when you do find love, Miss Natasha, please tell me. Maybe we can make better sense of it then…" He wanted to reach out and touch her shoulder as he walked away, but retracted. _No, I can't let her know anything at all. I can't handle heartbreak._

* * *

Later that same morning, Tolys felt a strong grip clamp down around his arm. By now, that grip was more than familiar. "Yes, Mr. Braginski?" He turned to face him.

The Russian simply grinned at him, pulling him away from what he had been doing. Tolys didn't protest, didn't ask where he was taking him or why. One simply did not question him. He dragged Tolys to a sofa in his library and sat down, pulling him half into his lap. One large hand passed down by his forehead and came to rest over his eyes, Ivan's other hand ran through his brown hair, in what could have easily been either an attempt to massage his scalp or crush his skull. Still, Tolys remained silent, though his head ached and heart trembled in fear.

Tolys was just think that this must be some cruel interrogation method, both by being painful and by numbing his brain to where he couldn't think straight, when Ivan finally spoke up. "You like me, right Tolys?"

"Ah…yes." Safest answer.

Silence fell again, a silence that was far more tormenting to Tolys than any pain. The silence indicated that something, yet untellable, was rolling through that man's twisted mind.

After several minutes, he asked another question. "Do you like Natasha more than me?"

How to answer? No would be a lie, yes would get him hurt. "That's…subjectable."

"Lies." He expected the hand to close down on him again, but instead it just leant heavily on the base of his skull. "That's just what people say when they don't want to answer. Tell me the truth."

Tolys felt his head leaning at a painful angle, as if it would snap at any moment from the weight of his hand. _The truth? You can have the truth, the whole truth. Please don't kill me for it._ "The truth is…I love Natasha. I've loved her for centuries, and it is driving me insane."

"Insane, huh?" Ivan's hand quivered for a moment before pushing Tolys across the room, crashing into a bookcase. The Russian's hands flew to his face and he shuddered with the sudden sobs. "I knew it. I knew it! She wouldn't tell me anything, but I have eyes and I have ears. You're always happy just to see her, you can talk to her for hours. You told me everything this morning by your discussion with her on love. But you would never tell it to me, directly to me. No. No one ever likes Vanya more. No one is happy to see Vanya. No one wants Vanya. Vanya's heart will just die and fall out one day and no one will ever notice or care. But…I can never hate you for it." Ivan burst out into a new set of tears. Tolys' mind was sent reeling by the words, but he managed to pull himself up enough to reach in an attempt to comfort the man, before being stopped by more words. "You never did want to hurt me, right? You never told me because you wanted me to be happy, right? Your heart never liked me though, and you deserve to give your own heart a chance to survive. Mine is already dead, maybe it was never alive." Ivan crawled down onto the floor with Tolys, hugging him to his chest and crying into his hair. "Go on and love Natasha with all of your heart while it still beats. As her brother and as your friend, I give you blessing to do so. Just please don't forget me."

Tolys pulled himself from Ivan's arms, sitting back by himself, utterly bewildered by these sudden, strange happenings. _What…just happened? What does he think of me? Does he even know what he means?_ But at the end, there was the blessing. "Hey…" Tolys' voice came out cracked. "I've never told anyone how I feel about Natasha before…"

Ivan nodded softly, then mimed zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing away the key.

"Thank you."

Just then, Ivan's older sister came into the library, immediately becoming alarmed at the disheveled, tear-stained mess both were in. "What's going on here?" she quietly asked, bending to their level.

Tolys inwardly cringed, this would be the test of just how much he could trust his secret with this man.

Ivan put on a large grin to answer her with. "We can't tell you, Katyusha, we're talking about guy stuff and you're a girl."

She raised an eyebrow at him, then turned her head to Tolys for confirmation, who put on a small smile and looked away from her, nodding softly. Satisfied, she reached to touch both heads, adding a few more motherly words. "If there's a problem, you two can always tell me. In fact, you can tell me anything you need to get off your chest."

"Uh-huh Katyusha!" Ivan clung to his dear sister.

And for Tolys, he felt left out again, left with his recent best friend: loneliness.


	5. Winter Melancholy

**1846** Time passed monotonously for Tolys. His interactions with others were maladroit, despair and melancholy had set into his mind. These combined, his existence was best described as forlorn. The condition was self-inflicted, however subconsciously, as those around him tried to reach out to him and were turned away. The cold, dark winter that quickly set in complimented him well. In the few hours of sunshine, he would often disappear to wander aimlessly, alone, not returning again until the sun set. It was on these walks that he had realized exactly how much he missed Feliks. He was a selfish, immature little scamp, but he had been the best friend Tolys had ever had. What had happened to him? Tolys knew what happened to Poland, but how had what happened affected the silly boy called 'Feliks'?

And then his mind would wander back to where he was. The three youngest still got along very well, still making Tolys feel like a stranger to the two he cared so much for. Ivan still doted on him, pushed him around, hurt him, hugged him, still the same treatment that depended on whims like the wind. Yekaterina had over and over opened her maternally inclined arms and heart to him, only for him to push her away out of despondency. Another person, apparently a lost relative of Eduard's, ad began to live there as well, though he remained a stranger to Tolys, who didn't even know his name, other than Finland. He had often wondered if real family for Eduard would put Raivis in the same lonely boat as him, but Raivis and Eduard still appeared to be as inseparable as ever.

On top of everything, war and revolution had taken turns tearing through most of Europe, and so the part of Tolys' mind that was a born warrior protested and fought within for battle, for rebellion, wearing him out daily. Which brought him back to Feliks. So much Polish territory now belonged to Russia. Though he would have hated to see Feliks live the way he had to here, he had secretly wished for a reunion. But Feliks himself, as the person, never came. He had chosen to stay with other conquerors, and his wishes were fulfilled, or so Tolys was told. _He abandoned me again._ Tolys couldn't help the thoughts of rejection. _He knows where I am and chose to avoid me purposefully. Why did you tell me how much you cared for me, Feliks? You never cared for me or you would have come to me, at least so I would have someone to wallow in misery with._

Tolys sunk to the ground, knees pulled to his chest, as the wind blew directly into his face. He sat there sullenly for a short time until a small crow flew over head, calling to him.

Looking up, he called back, "Labas, varna." Funny, for a bird he spent so much time hunting for food earlier in his life, one became a dear friend to him.

"Labas," the bird sounded like it called back.

He smiled, holding out a hand with pieces of bread resting in the palm. He had grown quite fond of the bird, and taught it to speak a little in exchange for free food. "Such a smart bird you are," he praised as it hurriedly picked up its food. Once it had finished the last crumbs, it flapped its wings furiously and started to fly back to the house. "What's the matter? Is there a storm coming?" he turned to see clouds indeed thickening rapidly in the sky. "Thanks. Let's go home." He held out a hand for it to perch on and began to walk back. Last winter, he had built an insulated birdhouse for his friend so it wouldn't have to migrate.

They quickly arrived back, after Tolys had carried a one-sided conversation with the crow the whole journey. Placing it inside its house, he said his goodbyes and started back to his own dwelling place. He didn't notice the short blonde watching him from the door the whole time.

"Were you talking to yourself?" she asked as he was within earshot.

"No…" he chuckled a little nervously.

"Yes, you were."

"I was talking to a bird."

"Psh, just as crazy."

He shrugged and walked in the door, past her, to absorb himself in some mindless task. Until she reached out and took his hand. Turning to her anxiously, he asked, "If there something you need for me, Miss Natasha?"

"I…I need to talk to you." That was the first he had heard her stumble over her words in centuries. He nodded to indicate he was listening, and her grip tightened on his thin hand before she spoke. "But…in exchange for what I need to say to you, which you probably want to hear, you'll have to tell me something first. It's been bugging me for years." She began to walk off, pulling him along behind her, until she came to a small couch and sat him down on it with a pushy force that remained him oh-so-much of her brother. Sitting down beside him, she shyly leant her head on his arm and spoke again. "I want to know what your childhood was like. I want to know why you're you."

He bit down on his lip as he collected his thoughts, honestly surprised by her request, but not wanting to deny her anything. "I don't think I really had a childhood, so to speak. I had to raise myself, as well as a younger brother and cousin. It was all okay, I guess, until they were snatched away from me."

_"Tolys! Come help us, Tolys!"_

_Little Tolys came running as soon as he heard the cries, but it was too late. The children were gone. Frantically, he searched, called, but never found anything. Weeks would go by until he learned they had been taken by a band of crusading Germans, known as the Teutonic Knights._

"I couldn't fight him and possibly take them back alone. I was doing good just to protect myself from his attacks. I could never even so much as find out if they were still okay."

Natasha interrupted, "Brother and cousin? Raivis and Eduard?"

"Aras and Raivis. My brother died."

"I'm sorry." She put a hand on his arm, making him fidget and blush.

"That was my life, defending and worrying, defending and worrying. He would taunt me, but I kept on because I knew one day he would falter. That was pretty much it until I went to live with Feliks. When we got Raivis back, he was so ill, emaciated and despondent. Eduard was the one who took care of him, was an only friend for him, and I suppose he replaced Aras in a way. You know the rest of my life, you were there."

"Aras…was a nation, too right?"

"Prussi."

"So that German renamed himself after your brother that he killed?" She was horrified by the idea.

"He didn't directly kill Aras, but yes, it hurts that he took his name."

"Oh… I'm sorry." She fell silent again for several minutes. "I should have said this a long time ago, when I first thought about it, but I was afraid of your answer…" He simply nodded to indicate he was listening. "Do you… Am I…am I the one you love?"

His face paled at the question, then heated right back up, completely unprepared for it. _**Told you so.**_ _Shut up, I don't need to be dealing with you now._ A pair of expectant blue eyes shot through his heart. "Yes…" he finally answered, his voice very quiet and weak. "I've loved you for centuries."

It was her turn to be shocked. Sitting up, she stared at him dumbfounded. "For…centuries? Tolys, why did you never say anything? No wonder it's driving you insane."

"I really only realized when I thought I lost you…" His eyes well up with tears as it felt like all of his life's secrets, his entire heart and soul had been ripped from his chest. But somehow he felt relieved and maybe even happy, for a brief moment. "But if I look back, I loved you long before that, though I never knew it. I guess…" he smiled slightly, taking her own words, "I was afraid of your answer."

She leaned her head back on him, and seeming knowing what he wanted so badly to ask, she said, "I don't know if I can love you. You're the sweetest, most lovable person I know, but you're something more like a brother to me. I'm sorry, but you deserve the truth."

"It's okay. I've lived this long without being reciprocated."

She reached up to kiss his cheek, then stood up and disappeared.

He sat there, still as stone, as his mind sunk into deeper depression. It wasn't okay, like he told her it would be. The imagining she might care for him the way he cared for her had kept his hopes alive, though his feelings remained in secrecy. Now with those feelings admitted, he felt empty, like he had nothing left to hold onto. Would he have preferred for her to lie to him and pretend that she loved him? Maybe, but at this point, he was leaning toward yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Labas, varna = hello, crow (Lithuanian)
> 
> This is how my headcanon goes: The ancient Prussi tribe was Lithuania's parent (and an aunt/uncle to the Letts aka Latvia), and had two children. S/he died when they were very small. Lithuania would have been the Aukštaitian, Lithuanian, Samogitian and Scalovian tribes (I think, I really did not research this fully), Prussi being the Sudovian and Prussian tribes. Of course, then came the awesome little albino, who took over the area and Prussi died because his culture ceased to exist. Latvia would have fallen too, cuz the Livonian order was a branch of the Teutonic Order, if I remember correctly. If not, ~artistic license~. Estonia isn't really related to those two, but is distantly related (third cousin or something) to Latvia. And it is my personal opinion that Estonia and Finland were actually brothers, separated in infancy and don't know it, all they know is that they are indeed related.


	6. Drowned by my Sorrows

**1855** A letter arrived addressed to one 'Tolys Laurinaitis or whatever your weird name was…nah kidding, I remember it'.

Tolys had grown even more distant and cold in his interactions with others, save for Ivan, who he feigned cheeriness around, out of both fear and pity for the man. He found it strange how solemn the Russian's face was when he handed him the letter, until he saw the sender: Feliks Łukasiewicz. Quickly, he disappeared to a hiding place to read it alone.

* * *

Hey, long time no see.

To be honest, I don't know what to write, but I wanted to anyway. I'm fine and living with this lazy blue blood, Austria, but it's really not that bad. Remember Liza? She's here too, but you probably knew that already. I'm cool I got stuck with this spoiled brat rather than that albino schmuck Prussia or super creepy, weird lunk Russia. I am sorry you got stuck with that creep.

Anyway, it's still kinda lonely without you around to constantly fret about everything, means I've had to do my share of fussing. Not fun at all, why do you live like that, seriously? Ha, imagine me always worrying like you, that'd give me acne or something. And that'd just be plain ugly, so yeah, not going to bother. Can you believe it's only been sixty years since I last saw you? It feels like an eternity. Even compared to the, what was it?, four hundred something years we were together, it's been too long. Anyway, I'd love to write more, I've got so much to tell you, but my hand hurts from writing.

Yours now, then, and in the future,

Feliks

* * *

Tolys couldn't help the smile. Still the same Feliks… He had to write back, but what would he tell him? He was far from the optimism Feliks seemed to radiate of. To say he was doing well would be lying, to tell the truth would just be depressing. Should he just thank him for remembering him and let him know he was still alive?

* * *

Dear Feliks,

Thank you for the letter. You're right, it does seem like forever since we parted. I, as well, am not sure what I should write. Life in Saint Petersburg is so much different and I'm sure I will never be used to or enjoy it much. However, it is what it is, and one day this will be over and I will be free again. I miss you tremendously, and I must be honest, I had hope you would fall here as well, but I also do not wish this fate on my worst enemy. I know now that it is best for you to stay where you are. I'm sure my circumstances are not really as bad as I have made them in my mind, I try everyday to look on the bright side like you would have told me to, but it is difficult given the position I'm in. Please know you remain my best friend, no matter the distance or years that divide us.

Tolys Laurinaitis

* * *

Overcome with nostalgia, tears dripped from Tolys' eyes onto the paper and bled some of the ink. _Feliks… Why did all of this happen…? I'm so sorry I was so angry with you those last years…_

Unable to return to his cheery facade, his heart was clearly on his sleeve to everyone he encountered on his way to send his letter, including one Ivan Braginski.

"What's wrong, Tolys?" he grabbed by the back of his shirt.

Tolys opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, as his body shook with twitches.

Ivan stared at him, his own eyes starting to glass over from tears, and pulled him close to his chest. "Vanya doesn't want you to be sad! Vanya's sorry! Vanya will cheer you up, 'kay?" Taking his wrist firmly, he pulled his 'friend' away.

_No… Please, no… Please let me go…_

Ivan pulled him unwillingly all the way to his room, and throwing open a closet door, he revealed a large stash of… bottles filled with a clear liquid? _Wait…I know that._

"Vodka for Tolys!" Ivan proudly exclaimed. "It'll make all your problems go away! I promise!"

_Drowning my sorrows, huh? I guess I could give it a shot…_

Ivan took out several bottles and put them on the desk, then sat Tolys down in the chair and knelt beside him. "C'mon, all yours!"

Cautiously, he opened a bottle and began to drink. _If just for one night, I want to be happy again…no matter what it takes._

About halfway through the first bottle, Ivan spoke up again, "You like vodka, Tolys?"

"It was invented by a Lithuanian, you know that?"

"Waa…really?"

Toward the end of the third bottle, Tolys started to whimper.

"What's wrong? You can tell Vanya anything."

"I…I miss Feliks… Maybe if I were nicer to him, he would have saved me… My life's horrible…" he drunkenly started to ramble about everything that had bothered him in all those years of bottling it up inside. "I'm now a stranger to everyone I love… Raivis doesn't want me anymore, he just wants Estija to hold him and help him and…and…I tried all my life to protect him, but I've failed, I'm a failure to him… And Natasha will never love me, for everything I did for her, she'll never see how much she kills me everyday to see her and know she'll never be mine and I just want her to love me… And…and…I don't belong anywhere, I try so hard to do everything right, but no one appreciates me, no matter how hard I try, they'll never care…" He collapsed over on the desk and reached for another bottle, breaking into a shrill wail.

Almost immediately, a set of footsteps could be heard running toward the cry, and a very concerned Ukraine burst into the room to be met with the sight of Tolys with Ivan over him, desperately trying to comfort him.

"Vanya, what's happening?" she frantically asked, dashing to hold the screaming teen as well.

On the verge of crying himself, he monotonely answered, "I just wanted to cheer him up, Katyusha. I didn't know he would do this."

She looked back down at him, his voice had broken and turned into sniffles and whines. She remembered, centuries ago, how she had thought to herself what kind of life would create a child this way? Add what she had noticed then to the stress she knew her brother was, and he was a time bomb, waiting to break down like this. Heaven only knows what other factors were involved. "It's okay, sweetheart, you'll be okay…" She rubbed his back and tried to rock him as best as she could. Turning back to her brother, she said, "I don't know what to do, other than let him drink himself to oblivion," she indicated how he had began to suck on the bottle much like a baby, "and let him sleep it off. He'll feel it tomorrow, but maybe it would have relieved his pains."

The two quietly watched over the younger, until he started to cry again, incoherent words spilling from his mouth in several languages. Ivan turned and left the room for no apparent reason, only to return a brief minute later with the younger sister. In a deep, serious voice, he whispered to her, "This is all your fault, Sister. Fix it," and shoved her toward Tolys.

Natasha stood staring at the sight in front of her, shocked into silence. Here was someone she had look up to, someone she admired for his strength, physical strength, but more so mental and emotional strength, reduced to utter devastation. Her…fault…?

* * *

Tolys woke late the next morning, the first thing he noticed was his spinning and pained head and sensitivity to light. Shutting his eyes quickly and stirring to shield himself from the light, he then noticed a small hand rested on his head and…his head was rested on a lap. _What happened to me?_

He rolled slightly again and opened one eye, to find himself rested in Natasha's lap. _She looks like she hasn't slept at all. Has she been with me? What time is it? What's going on?_

"You're awake now…" she spoke softly. "I'll be caring for you today."

"What happened…?" he rolled his face away again, allowing her to gently comb through his tangled locks.

A new voice answered his question. "Vanya gave you a lot of vodka, need I say more?" Yekaterina.

"Oh yeah…" He began to recall a small portion of his memories. "What time is it?"

Natasha answered this time. "Eleven something. Katya told Vanya not to let you do anything today. If you need anything, I'll get it."

"Mmn…" Suddenly, he was hit with something: Feliks! His letter never got sent. He quickly sat up, sending his would into a dizzy spin again, but nevertheless, he searched his pockets for that paper. Finding it, he handed it to her, "Send that for me please. I'll go make myself food."

She took the letter, then objected, "No, I'll make your food."

"I insist, Miss Natasha."

She looked to her sister to help her. Her sister sided with him though. "Natasha, let him make it, but stay with him like Vanya said. You don't know what he eats anyway."

She nodded and stood up. "Wait for me, I'll be right back."

Once she left, Yekaterina got up and sat beside Tolys. Whispering to him, she asked, "What is it that Ivan insisted she stay with you? Is there something I don't know about? Ivan wouldn't tell me."

He blushed and furrowed his brow before answering. "I…I am in love with your sister, Miss Yekaterina. Mr. Braginski knows."

Her eyebrows soared understandingly and she reached to hug him softly. "I see… Please accept my best wishes with her. I'm sure you know she's feisty."


	7. Life in Death

**1887** Ever since that dreadful, drunken night, Natasha swore to accept Tolys' feelings, rather than rejecting them out of fear, or timidity, or bashfulness. Tolys himself had returned most of the way to the genial self he had been. He kept up with Feliks by letters, and a pattern had been established: Feliks wrote long stories detailing seemingly random events, while Tolys wrote mostly in reply, never mentioning his own fate, never mentioning how often unspeakable things happened to him at the hands of his master.

In addition, he had grown ill with an incurable sickness that only a nation could have. Through the censorship of his culture, the sole thing to define his existence now, he grew more weak and languid with each passing day. Clinging to shards, little pieces of traditions, inward expressions of who he was, things that no one could take from him; these things kept him standing. Everyday he still got up and worked exactly how he was expected to, and even took on more. But his pain was not invisible.

"Why do you keep going on like this?" Natasha had sat down beside him, where he had toppled into a chair.

Even through his pain, he smiled. "I'm afraid of what will happen if I quit."

"What's wrong with you anyway?" Her voice was filled with concern. "That's the third time you've fallen this morning."

He could have thought of all the ways in the world to brush off her worries, but no, he was straightforward with her. "I'm dying, Miss Natasha."

She latched onto his arm, pleading. "You can't die! You…you can't! You're too young to die."

"Age has nothing to do with such things, you know that. If I lose everything that makes me a nation, I will die. First Aras, now me, I hate to think what would happen to Raivis, slowly we are all dying out, and with us will die the remembrance of the Balts. I'm the second one left."

She started to sob, her tears soaking through his shirt. Reverting from Russian to Lithuanian, she begged, "Please, you can't die, Lietuva. You're too strong, I know you are. What was different when Poland tried to destroy your culture? You've lived through all of this, why would you just give up now?"

He was silent, thinking over her words. _She's right, but…_ "If I stand up to your brother like I stood up to Feliks, he will retaliate…"

She sat up and looked him in the eyes with all the strength she could muster. "So you're saying you have the choice to die as a nation or die as a human. You're right, except for the fact that you cannot die as a human unless you die as a nation first. Listen to me. Rebel, it'll be the only way you can stay alive. Even if you're exiled to Siberia, or Brother beats you to death, you will not be killed. I know… They tried to kill me…but I am still here. You took them from me. You can't die, you're my hero."

"Your…hero? What-why?"

She focused her eyes in her lap shyly. "You took me from my family, I'm sure you didn't want to, but by that, you saved me, my human body. I believe my heart can never love…but if it could…it would love you."

* * *

That evening when Tolys brought dinner for them, he found a frail Eduard sitting beside a worn and sobbing Raivis. Even though the policies that were killing Tolys had strengthened the cultures of these two boys, they were taking everything else that happened badly. Never having the strength of independence, they simply couldn't handle the same things Tolys could, perhaps it was a blessing, because if they were in his shoes, they probably wouldn't even be alive anymore. The toll on those two was much more of a mental battle, but what happens to the mind affects the body, and they were losing strength in ways they should have been stabilizing, or growing stronger.

Tolys' heart sunk yet again to see them like this, and he quietly sat down beside them, without a word for several minutes, as he watched the taller blond attempting to get the little one to eat.

"Would you two listen to me for a minute?" he finally spoke up. Both looked intently at him, their faces as solemn as his. "You both know I'm facing mortality. I want to ask one thing to save myself, and also protect you two if things turn for you like this. I know you both have strong hearts, look at everything you've survived so far. Use that strength to shield yourself so you never have to end up like me." He stopped to gather his thoughts again before he explained himself. "I have to do everything I can to hold onto my identity. I know I will be punished, but push has come to shove, either I throw myself into the mouth of the bear, so to speak, or I will certainly cease to exist as a nation. No Russian can take my life unless I give up just to save myself physical pain. Do you follow?"

Raivis added, "You mean to say that you will disobey the bans and disregard the threats? That you will go on and live exactly as you always have, in spite of the laws? And on top of that, we should cling to our own cultures just exactly the same in case the Russian comes for us too?"

Tolys couldn't help but smile. The little boy wasn't the child he appeared to be, no, he was far more than he would ever appear, at first sight or hundredth. "Exactly. I couldn't stand to see either of you die, and I hope you feel the same for me. I cannot be killed by physical violence. It will take a lot of resilience, but I trust one day I, no all of us, will be free." He fell silent again, watching them closely in the dim light as the words sank in. "Estija?" The blond looked up suddenly, surprised to be addressed directly. "Just to get a head start on what may be coming for you, I want to learn your language. With all due respect, I ask that you learn mine. If you understand it enough, I can speak it between the three of us and keep it alive. If I can understand yours, the same works for you if it came to that. Raivis is covered by both of us understanding Lettish."

Eduard offered a weak smile. "When do we start?"

Knowing the question was rhetorical, he added his last suggestion. "I promise to stand up for your rights as much as I'd want for myself. Please, both of you, stand up for me. There's a Polish saying: For our freedom and yours. I have adopted it for myself here. Together, we will all survive, I'm sure of it." He held out a hand to shake a confirmation of their compact and the younger two followed suit.

Then, to Tolys' surprise, Eduard fell into his arms in an awkward hug. "Thanks…for remembering me too," he whispered.

* * *

**1903** Tolys collapsed in agony as his master threw another china cup at him, the broken pieces of porcelain lodging into his back. _Please…someone…save me…_

Ivan was screaming too, his eyes showing no emotion as the red color of blood quickly displaced the white of the brunet's shirt. "Why are you doing this to me? Why won't you listen to me?" He threw something violently with each cold sentence. "You're a bad friend! You're a bad person! How dare you treat me like this?"

This torture had become all too frequent. _This is the price of staying alive,_ Tolys would always silently remind himself. After all, he the illness was losing its grip on him, though the near-daily abuse kept him weakened. He suffered the most direct, physical torture, because Ivan had always thought of him fondly, it was incomprehensible to the Russian for him to go against him so apparently and belligerently. Raivis and Eduard became like playthings, Ivan carelessly toyed around with them, unaware of the anguish he caused them.

Tolys flinched as another projectile was flung at him, but it never hit… Seconds later, a body crashed into him instead. He could almost feel the glare Ivan had to have been sending. Trapped under the third person, he couldn't tell who it was, he could only see the blood dripping on the floor, until they spoke up minutes later.

"Stop…" It was Eduard. Tolys could feel him quivering as he struggled to stand back up. "Stop." His voice managed to stay steady. "Stop hurting Lithuania."

Tolys turned to witness what would happen next. Ivan stood staring at this interference, a small plate still in his hand. Eduard stood weakly, one hand balancing himself on a tabletop, the other hand on his head from where the blood was dripping. The Russian's face suddenly appeared to melt into a tremble and the plate fell from his hand, sending shattered pieces everywhere. "I…I don't want to hurt Litva…" He screamed as he noticed the red color of the side of Eduard's usually blond head. "I don't want to hurt Estoniya!"

Tolys pulled himself onto his feet and immediately went to examine the wound to Eduard's temple. This was how the three had started to love, they protected each other, they helped each other, they stood up for each other, yet each handled their own pains and weaknesses that were constantly developing. This was life as they accepted it. For whatever reason, they had become like this, and they vowed to hold each other up until they could finally see liberty.

* * *

In the coming years, complete chaos would take hold of Russia, the country, the people, the land, and the man who personified it all. January 22, 1905 had shattered his mind, any bits of sanity he had held onto before were completely gone. As revolution swept, he was pulled in two mentally. They needed change, but what was wrong with the way things were now? They had friends, right? Why didn't his friends like him? Why did they want to leave? Everything was definitely alright, right? Right?

Ivan wasn't stupid. He knew no one was happy, but he couldn't comprehend why. Everything they had worked so hard for was falling apart and everyone hated him. Again. What did he do wrong? The more time went on, the more he found himself falling to the side of his own revolutionists. Change was needed and they offered a glimpse of it. Maybe things could get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought it was funny how the policies the Russian Empire used to suppress Lithuania were the same policies that strengthened Estonian and Latvian national identities… /shot


	8. Free, but Not

**1918** Lithuania had declared independence after the overturning of the government that withheld freedom. Tolys himself was leaving, after over twelve decades of pain. Wide were the types of goodbyes he was given, from the simple "Thanks and good luck" from Eduard, to the clinging "I'll miss you so much" from Raivis, to the complete meltdown, screaming and demanding he couldn't leave, from Ivan, who was now restrained by his older sister. There was one person that he hadn't seen yet, and she was the one he had really wanted to. After looking once more, he decided that he would have to leave without her farewell.

Picking up a small bag that contained everything he owned, he took a deep breath and looked back again. He felt nervous about going out on his own for the first time in centuries, but also felt bad about leaving that mentally broken man who was still screaming bloody murder. _I have to go, or I will die._ It felt lonely, but that wasn't a new feeling to him. His body ached from everything, but that wasn't new either. Lovesickness at the thought of being separated from his angel…not new. Perhaps it was confusion, his mind couldn't handle the idea of total freedom as he had looked forward to for years, mixed with the strange negative emotions. He didn't know if he could take care of himself anymore. He was free and alive, all of his goals were all completed. Once you have reached the finish line, where do you go from there?

Walking with his head down, he nearly walked into her before he noticed her, her hand stretched out to stop him, her face hardened. "Why are you leaving me?"

"Miss Natasha…" he examined her face for some trace of the little girl she used to be. "Please, I'm sorry, but I have to leave. You can't understand."

"You said you love me! Why are you leaving me?"

His face dropped and he held back a quiver. "There really is no choice for me. I love you and always will, please remember that. Once I'm on my feet again, you can come to me at any time. I can't come back though."

She stared at him for a minute, knowing he was right. "Goodbye then…" Her voice had returned to normal when she spoke.

He leant his head against her for a brief moment, then silently walked away.

* * *

Once settled, he didn't have the chance for the boredom and loneliness he expected. Poland wanted to take him back, but he just wanted to recover alone. No matter how dear he was, Feliks was not a person he wanted to spend this time with.

WIth the respect given to him by the government, he lived out several solitary weeks in the countryside. No one was supposed to know who he was there, and those that knew who he was weren't supposed to know where to find him. It was respecting his wishes to able to recuperate without disturbance. However, he quickly fell out of touch with what was happening all around him. He didn't realize how quickly the newly independent country became troubled. And so the knocking at the door was a complete surprise to him.

He peered through the window before opening the door, wary of any visitor. This man wasn't someone he purposefully knew, but he recognized him as another nation, which one he was he couldn't recall though. He decided to open up to him anyway.

"Mr. Laurinaitis, yes?" the man was quick to clarify.

"Yes…" with a polite smile, was the only answer Tolys would give.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have the right person. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself, "The United Kingdom, Arthur Kirkland."

With a handshake, Tolys invited him inside. Perhaps there was something wrong…

"Mr. Laurinaitis, please accept my warmest congratulations for your independence. However, as I'm sure you know, a country cannot remain free as long as it cannot sustain and hold itself up…" There was something wrong! "We would like to offer our assistance to your cause. Please feel free to request anything specifically."

"Mr. Kirkland… To be honest, I have suffered so much personally that I cut off myself from the world over this short amount of time. I don't really know what's going on out there, so I'm sure you can do whatever if needed without me."

The blond man smiled and nodded. "I was told that you may be unaware. Politically, we can do what we can, but I don't think there's really anything the United Kingdom can do. I was sent to you as a person to another person. I don't know what sort of life you have had, but I am here to offer to you, as Mr. Laurinaitis, not as Lithuania, whatever I can give to help you. This country is so poor, perhaps you would like a job to keep you occupied and have your own income?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Well, I was thinking of a nice, quiet job with one of the farther west nations would do good. For one, it would get you away from Russia, which is still in chaos…"

And so he ended up in America.

* * *

The nearly twelve years that followed were enjoyable and peaceful, save for a few disturbances. Poland never stopped insisting he come back home, and several were the times Feliks took it upon himself to try to take Tolys away. There never came the chance to see Natasha, a fact that weighed heavily on his mind. But this was only the beginning of a new period of his life, one were all his dreams could come true, given time, or so he thought.

And it all came crashing down. The last ten years of his freedom were not free at all. Though he remained politically independent, Russia wanted him back. During these years, Ivan had still pushed around the other two, though they were every bit as free as Tolys, officially. But that officialdom meant nothing to a man so completely lost and broken. Feeling sorry for Ivan, and guilty for leaving the younger two to fend for themselves, Tolys quickly accepted that he was right back where he had fought to get away from. Poor long before the depression, there wasn't much of a chance of surviving alone, so the choice to accept Ivan's offer to care for him was almost a no-brainer. He returned in the spring of 1930. Everything was new. Not only had he never been to Moscow and had a completely new house to get used to, the people seemed to have changed so much in just over one decade. Ivan was so much more cold, having lost a lot of his childishness in the wake of change, save for his cruelty. He seemed to swing between an unnatural calmness, that could only be from a new maturity, and a violent, unpitying, nearly obsessive control over everything he was afraid to lose. Yekaterina didn't appear much changed, still a mother to whoever needed one, but Natasha welcomed him back with cold silence, something that concerned him greatly. Surely, his angel had to still be there somewhere, behind that mask.

Tolys noticed how Eduard and Raivis had began to shadow him, sticking by him most of the day. He appreciated it, as it never left him feeling as lonely as he had before, but it also concerned him as he felt like a sort of security blanket for them. As the oldest and strongest of the three, it was only his duty, perhaps his purpose, to do whatever it took for them. Though he still didn't know him, Tolys found himself watching over Eduard as he would Raivis. Over the years of simply being near each other, but never being close, he had gradually come to accept him as family. The young man could hold his own and protect himself, but Tolys still felt like all he wanted was someone to be his. Thinking over the little he knew of Estonia's history, it was no wonder; being raised apart of his own family, then treated as a dog, with no concrete idea of where he came from, the boy probably felt alone everywhere he was. Sure, he had Raivis, but Raivis had Tolys for blood kin, something Eduard couldn't find. No wonder he had left for Sweden those years ago, Sweden had the only one Eduard could find a relationship to: Finland. Though that Tino had been a part of the collective Nordic group since he was a child, Eduard might have felt like a stranger among them too.

Feeling sorry for the lonely Est, Tolys gladly offered to take him under his proverbial wing, though never mentioning why. If he could just find a way to let him belonged, despite the nothing that connected them. And the more Tolys treated Eduard like family, the more he began to see what kind of person he really was, instead of the screen he put up the world. He really was an interesting guy and Tolys enjoyed his company.

It didn't take long for Eduard to learn things about Tolys either, from the way he always looked over things a third or fourth time to ensure it was right, to the way he buried his emotions before ever acting or reacting, yet still remained warm and cordial. He had admire from the background the Lithuanian as long as he had known him, but now his appreciation grew every passing day. Tolys truly was a picture perfect model for Eduard, someone he knew he could never be. It also didn't take long for him to pick up on Tolys' unusual watchfulness over a certain girl. Though he never said a word, Eduard knew he loved her.

One day, Eduard had watched Tolys watch Natasha, following with his eyes her going about with her books, her dolls, her pet cat. As a friend of and the same age as Natasha, he had gotten to know things about her that many didn't as well, even things she never mentioned to him.

And he was willing to offer the informations to Tolys. Seemingly out of the blue, he spoke softly, as if what he had to say was a huge secret. "She's angry with you, Mr. Tolys."

Tolys turned to raise an eyebrow at him, before responding with a simple "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 1918-1930 stuff seems awkward, but Lithuania's Outsourcing is one of my favorite parts of Hetalia, so… ._.


	9. Changes Unwanted

**1941** Independence had come and gone without much event. After all, maybe this was just what had been fated to happen. Surrounded by war, perhaps it was better to stay sheltered in Russia, at least until life was safe again.

Even so, Tolys had been a fighter since childhood, and it pained him to hear and see the wars without being able to touch it. He obsessively followed everything from inside that house he had been confined, reading every available report, dwelling on everything he could find out to sort fact from bias. It was quickly apparent how detached he became from his work, as if his mind was in another world. It was, the battles of his mind returned to plague him. He had been ordered under no circumstances to leave the house, because Ivan didn't want him involved in the fighting and end up hurt, and everyday the desire to run away and join the war, no matter the side, grew harder and harder to suppress. But nevertheless, he stayed put. The more this went on in his head, the more disconnected he became from everyday, from everything around him here. And it was obvious to everyone what was going on.

"You want to leave again, don't you?" Natasha, straight-faced and blunt as ever. "I'd advise you not to lie to me again."

Initially, he was shocked to be jerked back to reality by her, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why do you want to leave?" Her voice was cutting.

He struggled to maintain a calm face. All of this was too much, without her there to tug, no, pull full-forcedly on his heart strings. "Miss Natasha…" he thought twice before continuing on with what he wanted so badly to say to her. "Must you insist on stabbing through my heart every time I see you? You know I love you more than you can imagine. I never wanted to hurt you or anger you, so please forgive me, though everything that's happened is beyond my control. C'est la vie, as they say in France. You could stand to learn what that really means."

She simply scowled at him for a moment. "What if I want to be mad? You want me to see your side, and I can, but I want to be mad."

Her words amused him and he had to swallow a laugh. "You're still a child…"

"So what if I'm a child? If a child is what I am, then so be it. Your stupid maturity makes me sick." With that, and her confrontation unresolved, she stormed off.

The conversation left him unsettled for days. He turned away at her sight every time. He became even more lost and unconcentrated in everything, and the silent worry over him only grew.

* * *

Another uneventful summer day, locked away from the world. Raivis and Eduard had kept close eyes on Tolys, just as he had always done for them, they knew something was very off.

"What's going on with him?" Raivis asked Eduard, using a very hushed tone.

"I don't know…"

The boy sent a disapproving look at the answer. "I know it's something about the war…and something about Natasha."

"If you were to ask me, I'd say he loves her."

Raivis furrowed his brow in an immediate reaction, then accepted the theory with a sort of facial shrug. "I guess… Ask him?"

"'Ask him'? I know it's true."

"Just ask him. Please."

So Eduard went to do as he was told. He found Tolys abstractedly reading a newspaper and stood off at a distance, while still trying to see what exactly he was reading. Several minutes passed before Tolys noticed his presence.

"Do you need something? You don't have to stand so far away…"

He took just one step closer before he started to speak. "Mr. Tolys, I know you've been upset recently, and I know Miss Natasha is part of that. I want to know if there's anything I can do for you."

"Nothing can be done for me. It's enough to know that she's happy on her own, that the little girl still exists."

Tolys' genuine smile with his words were startling to Eduard, but he accepted the answer. If Tolys wasn't going to fight his fate, no one should try to step in for him and make things worse.

* * *

 **1977** Life had quickly fell back into routine. Fatalism was the dominant mentality, as life was never pleasant and never seemed to show any hope. As if nothing would ever change, Tolys continued on in being the perfect 'doormat', as Natasha so put it back then. At least he was alive.

In an armchair, he had fallen asleep with rags in his grasp. He hadn't slept at all for days and collapsed from exhaustion. Waking suddenly, he was startled by his first sight being of one Ivan Braginski sitting in front of the chair, leaning in arms and chin on it, with his gaze intent on Tolys.

"Ah! I…I'm sorry…!" He would have jumped to his feet if the gaze wasn't pinning him to the spot.

"Tolys is sleepy?"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, sir…"

"Why is Tolys sleepy?"

"I haven't slept well recently, sir?"

"How come?" He meant the inquiry in child-like innocence, but it still frightened the brunet.

"Well…" Not really wanting to be honest, he had to think of the words he wanted. "I guess I've just been busy. Nothing to worry about."

"You aren't sick, right?" Ivan leaned closer to examine his face, while reaching for his hand. The moves made Tolys begin to quiver involuntarily.

"I'm fine, Mr. Braginski…"

Ignoring his words, Ivan held the hand he captured to his face, slightly nuzzling it. "Your hand is warm," he declared with a smile.

Tolys fell silent, still twitching. He wanted to get away, but experience told him there was no such thing if this man really wanted to be with him. Once a few minutes passed like this and his body began to relax, he could feel the cold of the Russian's hands and cheek against his own hand, as if his skin was incapable of absorbing heat. He entertained that idea for a moment, thinking that if that was indeed the case…

"Oh! Your hand's getting cold now!" Ivan pulled his face away and stared curiously at the slender hand had kidnapped. "That's funny… Are you still okay?"

"Yes sir, I'm quite fine."

Switching his gaze to Tolys' face, he confirmed for himself that he wasn't ill, then stood up, still holding his hand and pulled him up from the chair. "Then you can go do something useful instead of lying around, right?"

* * *

 **1995** With the fall of the Soviet Union and the independence of all its nations, once again they were free. Tolys returned to a peaceful life he hadn't known since at least the 16th century, and his patchwork 'family', Raivis and Eduard, came to find a freedom they had never known. He worried for how this would affect their former master, but by all counts, he seemed to be handling it, as if he maybe saw it coming and accepted his lonely fate. Natasha had started out on her own for the first time, but quickly things seemed to turn very wrong. In the year that this man had been in power of Belarus, Natasha had changed dramatically. In the place of a shy, but otherwise sort of normal girl was a cold, angry young woman. She had mental issues stemming from her infancy, but this was not the Natasha everyone had known. Her own brother began to refuse to even call her by the same name. No longer the little sister, Natasha, he loved dearly, she became Natalya, some _thing_ he was afraid of.

And all the while that it was obvious that she mentally fell apart under the control of the man in power, Tolys refused to accept what happened, holding onto the centuries of memories of his Natasha. They parted just years ago under good terms, having resolved what she blamed him for, but suddenly she turned against him again. But he refused to let her go. He loved her too much, no matter how much she claimed to hate him, he would go on, because Natasha had to still be there, she couldn't have been erased.

The years wore on and on as her situation only got worse. Few people had known her before, and so didn't see that this wasn't her real self. Those that did know her, recognized what had happened, she had been taken advantage of in her less-than-stable state and influenced to be someone she was not. The only one willing to associate with her, at the risk of his safety, was Tolys. Everyone told him to leave her, to get out of her way, there was no fixing her. They told him she wasn't worth the pain and suffering, especially after his lifetime of hardships and tears. But they hadn't been there in his heart all that time, throughout all those years, he could handle almost any hurt. Almost.

* * *

 **Present** "Natasha, please! Please listen to me!"

The girl stood with a knife in her grasp, breathing heavily and calculatingly aiming the blade toward Tolys.

"I won't leave you again. I promise, I will never hurt you again."

"I don't need you and I never want to see you again! Leave me this instant or I will kill you!" Her voice came out as snarls.

"What's wrong, Natasha? What have I done to you?"

"I hate you! Go away!"

"Don't you remember? I love you and always will. What's wrong?" He reached forward to touch the top of her head in an attempt to quieten her, just like he had done so many times before.

"Don't! Touch! Me!" she shrieked as she plunged her weaponed arm toward him.

He diverted the hand meant to touch her and grabbed her wrist instead, stopping the knife in its tracks. She pushed and pulled but couldn't make him budge. Bending to her height, he whispered softly and warmly, "I don't know what I did to make you hate me. I don't know why you act like this now. I don't understand what happened to you, but remember this: I will always be here for you, I will do anything for you, I will always listen to anything you have to say, I will do anything for you. I won't ask you to do anything for me. I won't ask for an explanation, or try to force you into anything. Please, if I may ask just one thing, don't cut me away from you. I love you." With that, he dropped her arm, which fell back to her side in momentary shock, the look on her face blank and staring. He smiled briefly at her, then turned to walk away as his head dropped.

And as she snapped out of her daze, she screamed one more thing, "Freak! I never want to see you again!" and sliced the knife into his arm before running in the opposite direction.


End file.
